Protest
My soul bleeds where once before the altar
Of my manhood I found worship
I cannot condone another prayer to falter
Where a woman's memory may slip
On the bruising stones of childhood, not good
The abuse of totem power, the cold
Plunder of children's will, what heart so wood
Defiled the fragile bodies like gold
Cankered now, my faith denigrated
For every woman by lust desecrated.
She was my temple, and I worshipped there
Since a child, loving what was pure
In my belief, kneeling to beauty as not mere
Form and figure, but some more
Meaning of her as a gift the mirthless scream
Of man. And I would for the shame
Blight your house and blight the horrid dream
That brought this slur against the name
Else how can I lead, how can love be
Trusted when it masks such cruelty?
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